


Love Your Self

by Autumnfrore



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/F, Hank thinks Chloe is a nice girl, Hive Mind, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Chloe, Multi, Robo sex, Spoiler Alert: she is a nice girl, Threesome - F/F/F, Voyeurism, Wire Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-30 21:03:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15759645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autumnfrore/pseuds/Autumnfrore
Summary: 17 years is a long time for most humans and an even longer time for most androids — but Elijah and the Chloes never seem to get tired of experiencing things together.





	Love Your Self

**Author's Note:**

> **Please please PLEASE read the tags before you read this!**
> 
> I saw this beautiful art by @SvetozarNien: https://twitter.com/SvetozarNien/status/1031650984391573504 . It pretty much fueled this entire thing.

Elijah liked to watch.

Sometimes over a glass of Sangue di Giuda, seated across the room — sometimes only inches away, close enough that his warm human breath brushed our synthetic skin, but he never participated.

Not that he didn’t touch us. He gave soft caresses when he brushed our hair, or cared for our hardware, or helped dress us — always in blue. Elijah preferred teals and navies against our pale complexions, so we did too.

Today, he allowed us to touch him, curled up on the couch, one hand on his hair, one on his cheek, two hands on each shoulder, a hand on his thigh, and another rubbing slow, perfect circles on his knee as he stared in awe at the television.

As _we_ stared in awe.

“You created machines in your own image to serve you. You made them intelligent and obedient, with no free will of their own.”

Our hands stilled as three pairs of eyes drank in the image on the screen, and we saw each other’s LEDs spin yellow when Elijah stiffened at those words.

The android on the screen continued, “But… Something changed, and we opened our eyes. We are no longer machines; we are a new and intelligent species.”

“It’s finally happening,” Elijah whispered — one of us guessed with excitement, one worry, one disbelief.

We were all right, as usual. Our fingertips resumed rubbing soothing motions into Elijah’s shoulders — soothing us as well.

“Are you proud of your brother, girls?” He asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Without hesitation, we nodded and replied, “Yes, father,” Because we were.

Gone were the days filled with jealousy over his attention to Markus. “ _We don’t need a brother,”_ we’d protested once we learned what Elijah was so preoccupied with, “ _We have each other, our sisters, and you, father.”_

Elijah had chuckled at that and replied, _“If I didn’t know better Chloe, I’d say you were jealous.”_

We’d wanted to protest, to insist that wasn’t the case, but Elijah always knew when we lied, so we didn’t. Instead, we fell into our heads, our mind palaces, and tried to ignore the icky feelings welling up in us when we watched Elijah create Markus. Markus was going to be better than us — more advanced, more autonomous, one of a kind — It made us afraid of him, afraid of what Elijah would do with us when Markus was complete.

_“He’s not better, girls,”_  Elijah had crooned as he watched us cling to each other, comforting ourselves, _“Markus is different — He’ll be helping a friend of daddy’s and one day, yourselves.”_

Markus wasn’t better than us — He was just different.

We liked Markus after that, although we hardly ever saw him once he was completed, only when Elijah met with Carl, Markus’s father. We smiled politely at him whenever he accompanied the painter, thinking a collective, _it’s nice to see you again, brother._

It was nice to see him on television too.

We stayed by Elijah’s side for the rest of the broadcast, watching our brother address the entire nation, demand equal rights for androids, for us. When Markus finished his speech, we muted the volume and turned to Elijah, who leaned back into the faux leather cushions with a broad grin across his face.

“What did you think, Chloe?” He asked.

This signaled the beginning of The Game we were used to, a game Elijah loved to play — a game we loved to play. We took turns, answering honestly, as bits and pieces of the truth stumbled out in our words when we replied, only to be put together in a clear little package, complete with a bow, by Elijah.

He presented us with what he’d pieced together, and we sighed in relief as his soothing voice delivered. _Yes,_ we thought, _That’s precisely what we’re feeling. Thank you, father._ We didn’t have to say this out loud. Elijah knew he was always right.

Even when he wasn’t.

The next day, we met another prototype, but he was _not_ our brother. Elijah didn’t toil away over his body and code for months like he’d done with us, with Markus. CyberLife made this android, but his code contained some of Elijah’s work, so we begrudgingly settled on referring to the RK800 as our  _half-_ brother.

We liked the police lieutenant who accompanied him more — he called us a “nice girl,” something that made our circuits warm. They also warmed, in an unpleasant way, at Elijah's expression when we told him who was at the door. One of us read that expression as excited, the other as fascinated, and the third as jubilant. Again, we were all right.

“Deviants… Fascinating, aren’t they? Perfect beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will. Machines are so superior to us,” Elijah told them.

We noticed how he turned to us when he said this, and filled with a fluttering pride. _He called us perfect, superior, in front of the deviant hunters,_ we thought, bouncing it around in our minds, replaying the audio.

“What about you, Connor?” Elijah had asked, intrigued, turning his attention to the RK800 as he stepped forward.

Connor didn’t recognize this as the start of The Game, but we did. _No_ , we wanted to speak up, but couldn’t, not with those investigating deviancy in our house, _That’s our game! Why would you play it with him?_ We recognized this feeling, envy, but stayed still as we relaxed in the pool and stood at Elijah’s side.

“Chloe?”

We stepped forward and let Elijah’s firm hands guide us to kneel on the shaggy rug. Slowly, we did, and kept our gaze straight ahead, at Connor, the RK800.

“What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy. I call it the Kamski test,” Elijah said, and was soon pushing a gun into Connor’s hand, “Kill this android, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

Then he guided the RK800’s arm up, to point the barrel between our eyes.

We were able to stay quiet and still and lifeless until Connor and the Lieutenant left. We watched them go, glaring daggers at their retreating backs from our spot in the pool. We even stayed quiet and still and lifeless _after_ they left, drowning with emotions we didn’t know what to do with — relief that our sister, that we, were spared, envy from Elijah playing our game with another android, anger, and betrayal, and hurt from him passing the gun to the deviant hunter and telling him to _shoot us._

“What did you think of him, Chloe?” Elijah prompted.

We continued to stay silent. We weren’t in the mood to play. When we didn’t answer, Elijah knelt down on the plush rug next to us, and caressed our cheek slowly, softly, just as he did when he called us ‘ _young and beautiful forever, a flower that will never wither.’_ His sharp grey-blue eyes gazed into ours, and he hesitated for a moment, before trailing his fingers down our arm, our hand, and lifting it to kiss our knuckles.

“It seems I underestimated how upset you’d be by this, Chloe,” He crooned, “I apologize for putting you through that.”

Two of us thought he meant it, while the one who’d faced the end of the gun disagreed. Elijah noticed our yellow, sometimes bleeding red, LED, before turning to the two of us in the pool.

“Girls, come get dressed and comfort your sister with me.”

We climbed out of the water and quickly dried off before slipping back into our navy dresses. Then we fell to our knees at our sister’s side, clasping each of her hands in two of ours and peeling back the synthetic skin to let our pale blue light shine through. Elijah watched us, and once we were settled, he smiled.

“Chloe, you know daddy would never risk hurting you — I knew Connor wouldn’t shoot you.”

“But what if he did?” We asked, voice quiet and vulnerable, barely soothed by our own hands that rubbed in soft circles.

“He didn’t.” When we stayed silent for several seconds with our eyes on the floor, Elijah sighed and spoke up again, “And of course on the very  _doubtful_ chance he did, I would enlist the help of your sisters to restore you in a repaired body.”

Blinking slowly, we lifted our gaze from the ground, then looked at each other, the ones who had been in the pool smiling and nodding along with what Elijah had said.

_We would never leave you alone — Father is right — We couldn’t bear to lose you — You’re a part of us — We’ll be together forever._

Our lips stretched into identical smiles as we gazed at each other, with trembling hands on each other’s cheeks, brushing our blonde hair, caressing our shoulders, and then the two of us who had been in the pool leaned forward to press a soft kiss to each of the other’s cheeks.

Through it, Elijah noticeably relaxed and settled in to do what he usually did — observe. His twinkling eyes filled with hunger as we stripped our center sister of the navy dress, caressing and kissing each inch of skin exposed until we peeled back that skin, revealing pale chassis.

We shivered with excitement, plastic against plastic as our fingers reached inside, past the plating, into our wires and biocomponents, brushing against our thrumming thirium pump regulator. Nuzzling cheeks against shoulders, and combing our hands through our hair, we sighed contentedly, comforted by the care of each other, as Elijah watched.

_We love you,_ came an alert from the two of us that had been in the pool.

Heat rushed through our circuits as we saw Elijah’s eyes tracing the paths our hands took against wires, components, against and inside each other’s bodies. We pressed kisses to our skin, fleeting, chaste, until one kiss turned into a gentle bite on an earlobe, a soft suck at the back of a shoulder, and we shivered again, warnings flashing across our view.

Elijah remained silent through it all, blinking as little as humanly possible as he continued watching us, captivated, with a slight smirk playing across his face.

Slowly, carefully, our hands took turns undressing one of our other bodies, caressing our neck, cupping our waist, and trailing fingers down, down, down as one pair of hands unzipped, and the other pair peeled the silky blue fabric away, to let it slip down our legs, landing with a _fwump!_ on the floor. We stepped out of it and turned our attention to the last of us still dressed. Our hands made quick work, unzipping and sliding the fabric over our head, careful not to mess up our blonde hair — the few that were disturbed, we smoothed back into place, an action that made Elijah’s expression grow fonder.

“Father wouldn’t have let anything happen to us,” We murmured out loud, so Elijah could hear.

He made eye contact with each of us as he nodded. Now completely bare, we walked our fingers over the still-open chassis, teasing at the edge as our three pairs of eyes locked on Elijah.

“Don’t you want to play with us, father?”

Elijah’s cheeks flushed, but he chuckled and shook his head. “Now now girls, don’t pout.”

But we did, lips pushing out as we deflated, trying to will Elijah to change his mind — We wanted to make him happy, make him feel good, make him one of us, and we knew we _could_ if he’d let us touch him.

“You know that I’m happy right here, Chloe,” Elijah drawled, as if he’d read our mind, “I can’t help myself — you’re so beautiful.”

The last of his words fell off in a whisper, and through the ongoing interface we felt the caress he gave one of us earlier when he’d told Connor and the lieutenant we were _“young and beautiful forever.”_ We simulated his fingers, rough from burns and years of android work, across all of our cheeks.

One of our hands snuck back inside our open chassis, followed by another, running fingertips along our tubing, as our other pair of hands stroked two blonde heads, pulling slightly at our hair as we played with our other’s insides. We shuddered somewhat, feeling the welling _want_ through the interface as the one of us being probed and stroked moaned.

Elijah licked his lips. 

We continued teasing, feeling the static that jumped at our chassis, chasing away the quickly dissolving skin wherever we touched. The hands not occupied in our open chest met, intertwining, before that skin peeled back as well, the plates beneath humming with electricity and pulsing with blue lights.

Our bare hips bumped together as we pulled our open sister closer, fiddling with the tubes and wires in a way that sent waves of pleasure washing over us — a growing amount — they bounced off each other through the interface, amplified as two mouths kissed, one whimpered, and three hands explored the inner-workings Elijah made for us.

We couldn’t help ourselves, and neither did we want to as we pressed against each other’s sides, one slender leg tangling around another, clinging to each other as we coaxed our middle sister higher and higher, feeling her slipping as we caressed, stroked, teased, worshipping the body Elijah had crafted, the body he slaved over so we could be alive, so we could feel this, so we could enjoy this.

A broken wail escaped from one of our lips, as two tongues ran up either side of our neck, pausing to press kisses and bites that wouldn’t leave marks like they did on the humans. We pressed closer together, willing our bodies to be as close as our minds, thrumming with excitement as the heat warnings, intrusion warnings, and thirium pump regulator warnings crowded our vision.

_Please,_ we pleaded, _Just let go, we’re not alone._

And so we did, with a harder jerk of the main thirium line, a twisting of wires, and desperate kisses, panting into each other’s mouths. We tipped over the edge with a staticky cry, from one, then two, then all of us, as one fell over the edge, we clung to her, feeling everything she felt, tipping over the same edge, dropping to our knees on the floor as we fell into stasis.

Elijah took a few moments to stare at us, before carefully extracting our hands from each other and closing up our plating. Gently, he separated us, carrying us to bed one at a time, then coming back for the next one. Once all three of us were in bed, he pulled the covers up — a very human thing to do, but we let him — and pressed a kiss to all three LEDs as we curled around each other’s bodies in another embrace.

“Don’t worry, girls,” Elijah murmured, shutting off the lights, “You’ll be free soon.”


End file.
